The L's Have It - One Shots
by Readwriter3
Summary: One shots within the "The L's Have It" universe. Typically can be read without having read "The L's" but it's better if you do.
1. London Times

**Summary:** Logan's business endeavors have been keeping him away from home, but Rory has just the solution. A pre-epilogue one-shot within the "The L's Have It" universe.

* * *

 _October 2012_

It was late, way past Lori's bed time, but Rory couldn't get her to go to sleep so she had resorted to playing with Lori as she tottered around the living room in the hopes of tiring out her almost two-year-old.

Rory heard Logan's car pull into the driveway and the engine cut off.

"Daddy's home!" she said excitedly to Lori, scooping her up in her arms and going to the front door.

Logan walked in a moment later, his suit a little rumpled, but then almost ten hours of traveling will do that. He smiled wider than he could remember having done in the past two weeks when he saw Lori reaching for him upon his entrance into the house.

"Hey there, baby girl," he said to Lori as Rory transferred their daughter into his arms.

"Dah," she replied earnestly. Logan's face lit up even more.

Logan looked up at Rory and gave her a kiss. "What are you both still doing up? It's late." He put his bag down and advanced into the house, removing his suit jacket carefully all while refusing to let go of Lori. "Not that I'm complaining that I get to see my girls."

"We missed you," Rory said. "And she wouldn't go to sleep."

Logan kissed the top of Lori's head. "Well then I get to put you to bed, don't I?" he appealed to his daughter. Lori smiled and waved her hands.

"Did you eat?" Rory asked.

"Yeah, on the plane." Logan looked down at Lori. She was already drifting off in his arms. Rory followed him upstairs. He went into the nursery to put Lori in her crib while Rory went into their bedroom. When Rory came out of the bathroom after washing up, Logan was sprawled out on the bed, his shoes removed but the rest of his clothes still on, half asleep.

"Is she asleep?" Rory asked.

"Yup. I guess I have the calming touch. She went out like a light."

Rory lay down beside him. "Hi," she said, snuggling up under his arm that had come to rest around her shoulders.

"Hi," he said back, his eyes half closed.

"How was your trip?"

Logan sighed. "It was good, very productive. Everything is coming along well. Murdoch seems happy. This traveling is just killing me."

Rory frowned. She could see what a toll it took on Logan every two weeks when he came home from a business trip. She hated to see him this exhausted, but business was good, so Logan would never complain. Not really.

"When does he want you back there?"

"Two weeks, same as always."

"Did you show him the pictures of Lori I sent you?"

Logan smiled. "I did. He thinks she's cute. Who wouldn't? But my appeals on the basis of needing to see said adorable daughter more often are falling on deaf ears. This is what we bargained for, you know?"

Rory knew. She remembered telling Logan to go ahead with the European expansion even when they knew Lori would be here at the height of the need for Logan to be elsewhere.

"How's work? Still dealing with that delinquent writer of yours?" Logan half mumbled in his sleepy state.

They Skyped daily when Logan was in London so it was easy to keep each other apprised of what was going on in their lives.

"He's been better about his deadlines. Normally, I wouldn't care and I'd just edit the piece when he got it to me as long as it met the paper's print deadline, but one good thing about this job is having more time to be home with Lori, and I'm not going to sacrifice that for work."

"Nor should you. If there's anything we learned from Paris your junior year at the Yale Daily News, delegation is key. Glad you whipped him into shape so I don't have to kick his ass."

Rory smiled, remembering how Logan had totally saved the day when they were sure the paper wouldn't come out on time. She loved newspaper mogul Logan mode sometimes.

At some point, they both fell asleep, neither quite remembering where they had trailed off in the conversation.

* * *

Rory and the other section news editors were just wrapping up their daily briefing with the Executive Editor, Jill Abramson. Keller had left two years ago, but Rory stayed in touch with him, and they had lunch from time to time.

Rory let the other editors leave before turning around to ask the chief editor a question. "Jill, who's running the London bureau now?"

Jill thought for a second. "Erlanger, I think. Yes, he just moved there from Paris. Why?"

Rory cleared her throat. "Oh, I had heard the position was open but I guess it's been filled."

"Jonesing for an international trip, are you?"

"Well, it comes with the territory, I guess. Actually, my husband's work has been taking him to London fairly often and I thought if I moved departments or positions we might be able to move there, but if it means giving up this job then I won't do that."

Jill searched through some drafts on her desk. "Well I can't make you bureau chief, but you're the international news editor. You could do that from anywhere, as long as you were still able to check in by conference call for weekly meetings and that sort of thing. If you want to be in London, they'll clear a desk for you at the bureau."

Rory was floored. She didn't actually think this line of questioning would lead to anything. "If you're serious…"

Jill perched on the edge of her desk. "I'm serious. You let me know when you want to move, and we'll figure out the details. Ideally it shouldn't be for more than two years. But we're not about to lose you, Ms. Gilmore. I think you know your worth to this paper."

Rory nodded curtly and left Ms. Abramson's office to return to her workday.

* * *

When Rory got home around seven she was already yelling apologies into the house to their caregiver, Sylvie. She was a retired sixty-something year-old who treated Lori like a granddaughter, but she was strict about what time she had to leave at the end of the day. She'd never leave Lori unattended, she just wanted advance notice if Rory or Logan was going to be late. She had cats to feed, after all, and on occasion, her own grandchildren to visit.

"Sylvie, I'm sorry I'm late, I was stuck in the tunnel leaving the city and couldn't get a cell signal any earlier."

Logan came downstairs holding Lori. "It's okay, Ace, I got home about an hour ago and relieved her." He put Lori down in her playpen.

Rory kissed him. "You know sometimes I forget what days you're here and when you're not. But I love having you home."

"I love being home." Logan went to the coffee table and grabbed one of the glasses of wine he had poured. He handed it to Rory.

Rory removed her heels and took the glass. "Well this is a nice surprise."

Logan smiled. " _And_ I cooked dinner."

Rory mimed being shot. "How do I ever manage when you're in London?"

"Beats me," he said, sitting down on the couch.

Rory bent down to give Lori a kiss and pass her a toy she was trying to retrieve that was just outside the playpen. Lori stood almost on her tiptoes, holding onto the side of the playpen, but she couldn't quite reach, which Rory reasoned meant the playpen was doing its job. She gave Lori the toy and joined Logan on the couch.

"She's been doing that a lot—we won't be able to contain her for much longer. Then she'll be tearing up the house."

"And here I thought we had a few more months at least." Logan took a sip of wine and put his head back. "I don't want to go back to London," he groaned.

Rory took his hand in hers. "You still have a week and a half."

"It's not enough, though. I hate missing all this stuff. I didn't get to see her take her first steps in person. I know you showed me on camera, but I want to be the dorky dad with the video camera capturing it all. She's going to grow up and hate me for missing all of this."

Rory set her wine down. "She is not going to hate you. She won't even remember when she took her first steps. This isn't going to be forever, and the stuff she'll remember, you'll be there for. You were here for her first words," Rory offered.

Logan thought about that. Lori's first word hadn't been "dad," but he wouldn't have expected it to be even if he had been around more. And when he was putting Lori to bed last night, she had managed three or four words, nonsensical though they were in combination. "Still. I don't care if Murdoch dissolves the partnership, I'm going to tell him my next trip to London will be my last for at least six months."

"How much longer does he expect to need you there?"

Logan shook his head. "A year, maybe a year and a half. But that's her whole childhood. Then she'll be in kindergarten…middle school…high school—"

"Stop. Logan, she's not even two years old, relax. Besides, if you want to spend all that time with her, you're going to have to do it in London."

Logan gave her a confused scowl.

"I talked to Jill today. I'm the international news editor, Logan. I can do that from anywhere. She said they'd have a desk for me at the London bureau whenever I asked for it, so what's stopping us? It'd just be for a year or so, and we'd keep the house, we'd still have Stars Hollow to come back to."

Logan sat up. "Are you serious?"

Rory nodded in earnest.

Logan searched for the right words to say. "But your mom, our families—"

"—will all still be here when we get back. I'm sure my mom will be our first visitor, and of course she'd bring Will and Richie so Lori could see her uncles."

Logan was choked up. "You'd do that for me? Just uproot our life for this?"

Rory shrugged. "Logan, I love you. I hate spending this time apart and we don't have to. Lori won't even be in school yet. Really, for once, the timing couldn't be any more perfect."

Logan looked around. This was perfect. His life was perfect, but this would make everything so much easier. He didn't know what to say.

"Should we eat?" Rory asked, scooping up Lori to put her in her high chair.

"Sure," Logan said. "And then you and I can look for flats in London."

"Oh _flats_ ," Rory said, following Logan into the kitchen.

Logan smirked as he doled food out onto their plates. "Don't worry, I'll teach you the local vocabulary."

"I didn't know I'd have to learn a whole other language. Never mind, I don't want to move to London anymore."

Logan could feel one of Rory's crazy rants coming on. He bent down to kiss her before sitting in his chair. "Thank you. Thank you for London, you have no idea how much this means to me."

"I do. That's why I did it."


	2. Amends

**Summary:** Someone surprising comes to visit Logan and Rory. A pre-epilogue one-shot within "The L's Have It" universe.

* * *

 _October 2014_

Saturday mornings were never the peaceful refuge one thought they would be. A valiant effort was made when the weekend was created to make that first glorious morning off from the work week a restful one, but alas children and six a.m. wakeup calls, Saturday morning cartoons, soccer practice, and an insatiable desire for waffles made Saturday just as busy as a day at the office.

Rory was attempting to get Lori out of the house before her soccer game started. Despite Rory's protests, Logan insisted his daughter enroll in some form of physical activity. When she was old enough to make her own decisions, she could decide if she hated it and wanted a career change, but until then, the exercise and socialization were good for the timid little girl.

One-month-old Ethan decided to be inconsolable, so with Logan making breakfast, a cleat-clad Lori was tugging at her mother's leg, insistent that they were going to be late while Rory tried to soothe her son to a tranquil rest, if not sleep. The house was a mess, there was waffle batter on the kitchen ceiling, crying and whining abounded and then of course the telephone rang. Logan stretched for the portable while turning a waffle over. Julius was on the other end.

"Hey man, what's up?" Logan asked, yelling over the din, tucking the receiver between his cheek and collarbone to free his hands.

"Murdoch wants a meeting," Julius replied with some severity.

"Today?! It's Saturday!"

"Apparently the weekend doesn't exist in Europe."

"Was he mad about anything? His last quarter numbers were off the charts, our work for him has been solid."

"I can't read the Brit, he has a unimodal attitude. All I know is he wants to see you, and he wants to see you today."

Logan cursed the heavens. He checked his watch. He had Lori's game, that was a two-hour engagement, then some free time in the middle of the day before a quiet dinner in. "I can do three to five, but I can't stay online past then."

"I'll get back to you." Julius hung up.

Rory managed to get Ethan to sleep, but just as she did, the doorbell rang. "Holy god, does anybody sleep on a Saturday morning?! It is Saturday, right?"

Logan turned the stove off, dumped the waffles into a paper towel and dashed into the living room to give Rory a hand. "We're awake," Logan remarked, as Rory thrust Ethan into his arms. He rubbed his son's back and he fell into a gentle cooing.

"Trust me, it's not by choice. I'm going to the car with Lori's stuff and then we're leaving."

The doorbell shrilled, oblivious to the fracas into which it rang.

"And can you please get the door? It might be my mom," Rory called, going out the back door with Lori's soccer bag, Lori in tow attached to Rory's leg.

Logan lunged for the door, Ethan over his left shoulder, trying to balance the weight. He managed to twist the handle and open the door. "Lorel—"

"Hello, Logan."

Logan couldn't move. He was pretty sure the wind had been knocked out of him. He felt his palms slick over with sweat, his muscles tense as if they rested on needles. His mouth dried up. Even after all this time this man still had a paralyzing effect on him.

Rory came back into the house and went to meet Logan at the front door. She reached for Ethan before looking to see who the caller was.

"Dad?" Logan breathed.

Rory looked toward the threshold. "Mitchum?"

* * *

They sat around the coffee table, facing each other. Mitchum had lost a little bit of weight in his absence. He looked tanner, more fit, a bit happier, but lacked the spirit of the truly content. Tense silence enveloped the room, except for Ethan's intermittent coos. Rory rocked him gently. Logan's leg bounced up and down. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. Lorelai and Luke had to take Lori to her game. Logan hated missing her games. That wasn't the kind of father he was. And now, ironically, he was missing it because of his own absentee father who all of a sudden decided to appear at the worst possible time.

"I'm sorry to put you out, I didn't…had I…"

"What are you doing here, Da—Mitchum?" Logan spat.

Mitchum stiffened at the use of his first name.

"Logan, it's been so long. I get lonely, you know. Bored. I miss my family. I guess I could have moved back by now, but I found a job in California advising a small hedge fund and it's the only other place I've ever lived besides here. Moving back here would just be too hard, having to reacquaint myself with what was once so familiar. I—"

"I mean what are you doing here _now_? Today, of all days? Why today?"

Mitchum cleared his throat. "I'm here to make amends, I didn't think you'd take my phone call—"

"Oh, fantastic, another selfish reason to reinsert yourself into our lives, so you can do your twelve step program and get the help we begged you to, for your sake, and you refused. But now, I guess, it's convenient for you with nothing else to do."

"Logan it's so much more than that. Yes, that's technically why I'm here and maybe I was selfish, but this isn't. This is the most unselfish thing I could possibly do. And it's because of the thought of not seeing you, or Honor or my grandson—grandsons. I don't even know his name—" Mitchum gestured at Ethan helplessly. There was so much he didn't know, so much he had only wondered and guessed at.

At the mention of his son, Logan tore himself away from the couch. "You know what, I can't do this. This isn't fair, you just leaving when you want to, doing what you want to, trashing lives and livelihoods and getting to start fresh at everyone else's expense and then just showing up whenever's good." He moved towards the door, fumbling with the zipper on his jacket, steaming. "You don't get the satisfaction of my time, or my compassion, or my forgiveness. You get nothing. I'm going to my daughter's soccer game." Logan took off, slamming the door behind him.

Rory readjusted Ethan in her arms, her eyes registering unimaginable pain and sadness, everything Logan was feeling but could not adequately express. Rory had had a ringside seat to all the drama with his father, had even fought a few rounds. Logan was right, it wasn't fair what Mitchum was asking. But if there was anyone that had taught her life wasn't fair, it was her father-in-law.

"How long are you here?" Rory asked him, a perfunctory quality to her voice.

Mitchum showed his palms. "I hadn't really planned it out, to be honest. A week, maybe."

Rory nodded slowly, grabbing Ethan's bottle from the side table and feeding it to him. "Where are you staying?"

"Your mother's inn. Pretty much the only game in town. I should have bought that place from her years ago, she'd be managing thirty of them by now."

Rory smiled despite herself. "I think just the two is enough. She never would have sold it to you."

Mitchum chuckled. "She's a smart woman."

Ethan cried out, rejecting the bottle now that he was done with it. Rory brought Ethan to her shoulder to burp him. Mitchum watched this practiced ritual, tears welling in his eyes.

Rory registered this guardedly. "Logan's not wrong, you know. You've screwed a lot of things up for a lot of people. Logan got really good at cleaning up your messes. But it was a mess that shouldn't have been made."

Mitchum stared at the ground. What was he supposed to say?

A smile cracked Rory's lips at a memory. "You know the day you tried to sell off your shares, Logan took off in a heartbeat to stop you. I was nine months pregnant with our daughter, and I thought about asking him not to go. But I couldn't—some small part of Logan is always going to treat his family legacy like a child. If anything, you gave him that sense of responsibility. Turns out he's flying home, he's made this decision to never speak to you again, and I go into labor. He convinces the hospital to let him land on the helipad, and he makes it into the delivery room just in time to see his daughter born. He told me about it later—the details were few and I'd get the rest of them as time went on, he was just so enamored with his little girl nothing else seemed as important. But I couldn't help but think, for everything you've screwed up for Logan and I, there you were—you had just lost everything and now this, too. The chance to know your grandchildren, maybe the chance to do something you wouldn't screw up. It reminded me of how my grandmother must have felt when my mom left home with me. I don't know that I would trade the first sixteen years of my life to have known my grandparents, but I know the last twelve years with them has been immeasurably richer, and that I would not trade."

Mitchum was full on sobbing now. He tried to wipe at his eyes with his jacket sleeves but they weren't absorbent enough. "I'm sorry. He has to know how sorry I am."

Rory switched couches, coming to sit next to Mitchum. "Would you like to meet your grandson?"

She held Ethan out, and helped Mitchum adjust his hands, but some of that paternal instinct came back. Contrary to Logan's belief, Mitchum had not been entirely absent. He'd been there when Logan was born, and held him just like this.

"What's his name?" Mitchum eked out.

"Ethan Elias Huntzberger."

At the shared middle name, Logan's middle name, Mitchum's father's name, the tears came anew. He rocked Ethan back and forth a little. Ethan didn't seem to mind.

"And you have a daughter?" he asked, looking at Rory with a flushed face, wakes of tears trailing away from his eyes.

Rory nodded, putting her hand over Mitchum's, which cradled Ethan's head. She found a picture of Lori on her cellphone—her hair was all askew, but she looked so unadulteratedly happy. "Lorelai Margaret Huntzberger. She's three. Well, she'll be four in December. We call her Lori for short."

Mitchum handled the phone with almost as much care as he did Ethan.

He gave Rory back the phone and transferred Ethan to her arms. He stood, collecting his jacket from the arm rest. He sniffed back the remnants of his emotion, cleared his throat. "Please tell Logan where I'll be staying if he wants to talk."

Rory walked him to the door.

Mitchum turned just as he was leaving. "Thank you, Rory. I didn't deserve this. But thank you."

* * *

Logan entered the house gingerly, in part because he was carrying Lori in his arms. who had fallen asleep on the way home. And in part because he had unconsciously been bracing for a confrontation with his father.

Rory was reading on the couch. Logan put his fingers to his lips and Rory followed him upstairs to Lori's bedroom. Rory helped Logan remove her shoes and tuck her into bed. Logan closed the door softly.

"How was the game?" Rory asked, the two now in their bedroom while Logan changed clothes.

"They lost. But Lori scored a goal."

Rory looked skeptical. "My daughter? No she didn't."

Logan smirked. "Okay, she didn't. But she made an assist."

"If that's a good thing, then I will be sure to congratulate her."

"Maybe I'll coach the soccer team next year if she's still interested in—"

"Logan," Rory cut in.

He looked at her. "What?"

"Are we just going to avoid talking about the elephant in the room?"

"He's not still in the house, is he?" Logan joked, swiping a deodorant stick under his arms.

Rory readjusted on the bed. "No. He's staying at The Dragonfly and he'd like to talk to you if you're willing."

"Your mother knew about this?" he balked.

"She had no idea. She doesn't make the reservations, and when Michel saw 'Huntzberger' he assumed it was you."

"Well, can she kick him out?"

Rory raised an eyebrow. "She could. But that wouldn't be very good for business. Like it or not, your dad is still a name around here. I'm kind of surprised he went into financial management—he wasn't a half bad writer in his day. You once told me he was shortlisted for a Pulitzer."

"Trust me, I remember. You don't know how many times I heard that as a kid." Logan buttoned up a collared shirt. "Why do you sound like you're talking him up?"

Rory sighed. "He stayed for ten minutes after you left. I told him about how hard he made life for everyone with his reckless decisionmaking. But that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve to know his grandchildren. I let him hold Ethan."

Logan sat down next to her on the bed. He ran a hand over his face. "I wish you hadn't done that. That's exactly what he wanted—to be let in on his terms, never anyone else's."

"Well, it happened. I never would have pushed you to have a relationship with him if he hadn't shown up on our doorstep but this is the situation." She put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

He shrugged her off. "It's just…how do you not well up with anger every time you look at him? Every single good thing that has ever happened to us he has ruined. Our early relationship, almost your career, our wedding, the birth of our daughter, the business…it's exhausting. How do you teach a child like that that what they're doing is wrong?"

"You don't. You accept them for who they are and hope they change on their own. I think he has. Or at least he's trying to. Of course it makes me angry that he's hurt you, but I think he continues to hurt you when you have all this unresolved anger towards him just bottled up. Of course I remember everything that he's tainted, but when I look back on our wedding I don't think of him being a drunk asshole; I think of getting to marry my best friend and eat cake and dance with you. He could barely cast a shadow on Lori being born and it makes for a pretty funny story now. Besides, we've already won. All of those things happened in spite of what he did to try and ruin them. And we're still together."

Logan was silent, contemplative. He moved to the dresser and opened a drawer. "I don't want him anywhere near our children. Honor can make her own decision—she at least gave him the courtesy of a phone call when Connor was born and I'll tell her he's here. But I had such a fraught relationship with him and I don't want our kids exposed to that."

Rory rested her chin in her hand. "He's your father, so it's your decision and I'll support whatever you decide. Ethan probably will have no memory of ever having met him. And if that's the way you want it to be forever, then I understand and I will back off. But this is the kind of olive branch that, if not accepted, gets burned."

Logan finished putting on his cufflinks. He looked at Rory, tight-lipped. "I'll be in the study. I have a conference call."

* * *

Logan tried to concentrate all through his conference call, but his mind was, frustratingly, on his father. When it ended, he wandered into his daughter's room. She was still peacefully sleeping in her soccer uniform. He stroked her hair. He thought how different her life would be if she didn't have people like Lorelai and Luke and Honor and Emily in it. Good, wonderful people who loved her. He wasn't sure his father matched that description. But he had never been given the chance to prove his worth in that department. And not that Logan would ever wish harm on his daughter, but if Mitchum turned out to be exactly as Logan expected him to be, then all she would learn is that not all people in this world are capable of unconditional love.

"Daddy?" came Lori's small voice as she woke up from her nap.

"Hi, baby," Logan said, smiling down at her. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"I'm hungry," she said.

Logan laughed. There were many moments when she was so much like Rory it startled him. "Let's say you and I go get something to eat at Grandma Lorelai's inn?"

Lori jumped out of bed. "I'm ready!" she proclaimed.

Logan steered his daughter to her dresser so he could run a brush through her hair at least. He hoisted her up into his arms to bring her to the car. Rory was feeding Ethan in the kitchen, so Logan scribbled her a note and strapped Lori into the car.

As they drove, Logan kept his eye on her through the rearview mirror. "Honey, you know how mommy's mommy and daddy are your grandparents?"

Lori nodded. "And Poppy Luke is too, even though he's not mommy's daddy, but he's Will and Richie's daddy. And there's Great-Gram Gram Emily and Grandma Shira and Aunt Honor—"

"Right," Logan said with a smile. "Well, Daddy also has a daddy, who is also your grandpa, but you never met him because he lives far away and I haven't talked to him in a very long time. His name is Mitchum."

Lori thought for a second. "That's a funny name."

Logan laughed. "Yeah, it kind of is. But, you know, your brother and Grandpa Mitchum and me all have the same middle name. So he's kind of always been part of our family."

"Why haven't you talked to your daddy in a long time?"

Logan pressed his lips together. He didn't want to poison Lori against Mitchum with his baggage with his father, but he didn't want to lie to her, either. "He did something that I didn't like very much three years ago that made it hard for me to talk to him. Kind of like when you get mad at one of your friends for taking a toy you really liked away from you and don't want to talk to them for a little while."

" _Three years_? That's all my life!" Lori exclaimed. She looked out the window. Logan thought the conversation was done. She turned back to her father. "Was the fight about me?"

That made Logan choke up immediately. It couldn't have been. Mitchum didn't even know about Lori's existence until a few hours ago. But just that she would think that broke his heart. "No, baby, we would never fight about you. In fact, Grandpa Mitchum is staying at Grandma Lorelai's inn and wants to meet you very, very much. If you want to meet him, that is."

"Well," she said, pressing a tiny finger to her chin in very deep thought, "if I didn't talk to you for three years that would make me really sad. So I don't want to not talk to Grandpa Mitchum for _another_ three years. Because you said he's part of our family."

Logan pulled up to the inn. Sometimes he wondered what he and Rory did to deserve such a beautiful and intelligent soul for a daughter. But then he realized the two of them had played a part in making her that way. "Okay. Then let's go meet him."

Logan unbuckled Lori and lifted her into his arms. He put her down when they stepped into the inn. Mitchum was sitting in the library right off the foyer, reading a book. He looked up when Logan walked in.

"Hi, Dad," Logan said to him.

"Logan…" He stood, placing the book on the empty seat behind him and removing his reading glasses. "And who's this?" he asked, looking down at Lori. He knew of course, who she was. How could he not, she was the spitting image of Rory with Logan's brown eyes.

"This is your granddaughter, Lori."

Mitchum looked from his son to his granddaughter. He crouched down to Lori's level. "Hi, Lori," he said to her.

Despite her earlier enthusiasm, Lori clung to Logan's leg.

"It's okay, sweetie," he said to her. "This is your Grandpa Mitchum."

Lori hesitated for a second, but then she ran the three feet to Mitchum and gave him a big hug.

"It's very nice to meet you," Mitchum said to his granddaughter.

She pulled away from the hug and turned to Logan. "Daddy, can I go visit Aunt Sookie?"

Logan laughed at his daughter's short attention span. "Yes, go ahead, but be careful in the kitchen, I don't want you to get in anyone's way. And tell Aunt Sookie she has to give you at least two cookies. Grab one for Daddy, too."

Lori ran off around the corner to the kitchen, but not more than a second later she came back. "Does Grandpa Mitchum want a cookie, too?" She looked at her grandfather.

Mitchum could have broken down then and there. "I would love one."


End file.
